A Different Path
by ElleThom
Summary: An AU story. This one is sort of off the beaten path. Let me know if i should continue or give it up for Lent.
1. Chapter 1

**I know what you are thinking, another one? Well this one has been rooting around my brain and i am doing a tester to see if it is worth continuing. Let me know its an AU and those are always tricky. **

**Enjoy**

The doorbell was blowing a staccato warning as he made his way from the basement into the front parlor room. Ten years in this country and he still felt like a stranger in his own house. The red and blue flashing lights outside were a reminder to a time not so long ago, or linseed oils and caustic sheets drenched in disinfectant.

The door played again, and he heard two voices on the other side. One, an assertion of belief, familiar in its tone; the other was new, female, and held a distinct note of annoyance.

He threw open the front door to find the two voices were not as disembodied as he had feared. A woman, dressed in a brown law enforcement uniform stood next to the boy on the stairs. He noticed that the boy was nearly if not equal to the same height as the smallish brown woman .

"You Ichabod Crane?" She asked from under her sheriff's hat. Crane scanned his brain trying to recall if it were good guys who wore brown.

He nodded, and with a fold of his arms leaned against the frame of the massive front door. "WHat did he do now?" he asked, directing the question to the sheriff but casting a pointed look at his errant progeny.

She turned to the boy at her side and pushed him forward a bit. For his part, Jeremy wisely chose to keep quiet, something Crane knew he was all too good at; and something that usually marked wither a guilty conscious or a half hatched plan of future evil. "Do you not know what time it is?" She directed her question at the man in the doorway.

Under her stare the elder Crane fidgeted as if the sermon had lasted too long. He brought his arm to his face and was surprised at its honesty. "Its 11 pm." he said more to himself than in answer to any accusation. He then parried an accusation of his own. "What are you doing out so late?" he finally addressed his son. The boy was dressed in shorts and a hoodie and held onto an over grafffittied skateboard. He shrugged but offered no verbal recompense for his nocturnal actions.

Crane looked back at the woman in uniform and offered her a grim veneer. "I had no idea it was this late..."

"Lieutenant Mills. Sleepy Hollow Sherriff's Department." she filled in for him. "Your son was not only caught out an hour past curfew, but he is also suspected of-"

Crane grabbed the ten-year-old's arm and drew him into the open door. "Lieutenant Mills, I thank you for the safe return of my son, however it is much past his bed time and i am sure you understand there is a need for familial concourse.

The woman at the door offered a brief look of confused shock before speaking. "Look, he is obviously way underaged to be out at this time of night, on his own. I brought him home this time, next time I catch him won't be as polite and cordial a _concourse_."

"Guess i just won't get caught next time." Jeremy mumbled as he allowed his father to lead him into the house.

"Thank you Lieutenant." Crane threw over his shoulder. But there will not be a next time.

"Uh-huh" Abbie answered as she headed to her car.


	2. Chapter 2

**I just wanted to take a second here to thank all of you for all the love. Wow i thought this thing would get eaten alive, but not in the good way that it got eaten alive. I am rambling. Anyway to make up for the short first chapter here is a nice long one, lots more info and dialogue. We are starting to walk to the pool, hope you are all ready to swim. **

**Enjoy**

His first instinct was to grab the little scoundrel by the back of his neck and drag him into the kitchen for a proper interrogation. that was his first inclination anyway. And, as much s he wanted to, the fact tht the boy was his son, and so he happened to love him, kept his anger at bay.

"What were you doing in the cemetery and at night?" He asked his son as he led him into the kitchen with a gentle hand on the shoulder, Crane did not feel it was an apt trade, but at least it kept him from jail.

The nine year old sat down in the wooden chair he was directed into and folded his arms. He held all the sullen arrogance that reminded his father of both himself and the other side of the boy's DNA. " I wasn't doing nothin'" he answered with a defensive shrug.

"Wasn't doin' nuthin?" Crane repeated. how he loathed his son's American speech patterns. it had not been his choice to move to the colonies, but it hadn;t been his choice to come here.

But, in the end, it had been his choice to stay.

"English," he encouraged his son with a pound on the table. "Why must you speak like an uneducation hoodlum.

Jeremy shrugged his shoulders again but said nothing.

Crane threw his hands in the air. "You are a nine year old boy, going out by yourself at 11 night is completely ridiculous."

"I didn't go out at 11." Jeremy answered with his eyes fixed on his father.

"Excuse me?" Crane asked, his head cocked in disbelief. "Are you telling me you weren't out tonight? That, you weren't brought hoe by an officer of the law?"

"I was out tonight at 11," Jeremy sniffed with all the petulance his nine years could amass. "But, I did not go out at 11."

"Really?" Crane asked.

The boy nodded his head, his brown hair flopped along in acquiescence. "I went out at nine." he announced proudly.

"Really?" Crane asked incredulously. "That's the story you are sticking to?"

Jeremy shrugged again, and it was in that moment that Ichabod could see his mother. He took a deep breath and gripped the side of the oaken table with two hands. "Listen, Jeremy. There are rules, everyone must follow in life. I cannot stress enough how important it is that you follow the rules. We are under intense scrutiny here, do you not know that?"

Jeremy nodded his head. "I do," he whined sullenly.

"Or, do you wish to go back to the home"

"It wasn't a home." Jeremy insisted.

"Yes i know, it was a series of homes. The point is, Jeremy, until the state sees fit to place you with me permanently, you have to maintain a level of decorum." he paused, glared at the sulking boy across the table. "What would happen if you got an official arrest, Jeremy?"

The boy shrugged but said nothing.

"What would happen, Jeremy, is that Miss Dougherty and Dr. Vega would both be notified regarding the incident. What would happen is that they would come and take you away, and place you back into the same system for which I fought so hard to get you out of."

Jeremy nodded again, slouched down further into his seat and lay his head back into the tall chair. "I had to go out, Dad." he insisted.

"You have to stay in after sundown, Jeremy."

"Whatever," he answered.

"No, not whatever. It's important. Your..." he stopped, it was hard to bring up the pain that memory dredged. "It's important that we stay together as a family."

Jeremy nodded again and slid out of his chair. "We done now?" he asked.

Crane wished his son would feel something for him. The years apart had solidified a distance that the man doubted would ever be righted. But, he had to try. "Yes, we are done now. Go on to bed. From now on, i will be checking to ensure you are physically in bed."

"Thanks for the warning, " Jeremy saluted.

This new adventure, Crane was sure, would surely kill him before the kid went off to university.

XxX

"I'm good, Maddie, please no more fries." Abbie smiled at the older woman as she slid another plate in front of her.

Maddie said nothing, but left the plate as she moved along to the next table.

"She's a peach." Corbin said around a mouth full of ice cream. "Quiet night?" Abbie had worked a double alone, Corbin ws just waking up for their shared shift.

"It's all good. Couple of car break ins, a lost dog, and a lot of paperwork."

"Heard you had a little excitement in the cemetery last night." he offered with the nonchalance of a skilled professional digging for information. "Why don't you tell me about that. .

Abbie Mills had known Sherriff Corbin or twelve years, and his ability to know things n=had never ceased to amaze her. He had taken her in when she was a troubled teen with no country to claim. He had raise her and her sister when no one else would. "What do you care about some kid out past curfew?" she bit into a ry.

Corbin shrugged. "I got reasons, and last i checked, i out rank you, so speak. Brief me."

Abbie leaned back into the faux leather of the booth by the window. "Jeremy Crane,, nine years old. I picked him up in the cemetery last night. Found him when i was making a cursory run through."

"Did someone report they had seen the kid there?" Corbin asked taking another bite of his pie.

Abbie shook her head. "No, I just figured, you know, with all the deaths around here lately."

"You pronounced murders wrong." Corbin said. "Go on."

Abbie gave him a withering look but went on. "Anyway, at 1:06pm i drove around the cemetery and that was when i encountered what I initially thought was a wild animal."

"What kind of wild animal?"

"I don't know, some kind of quadruped. Anyway it wasn't When the headlights hit, it turned out to be just a nine year old boy. Kid shouldn't have been in a graveyard at o'clock at night. What kind of parent lets his kid out o his sight like that?"

Corbin grinned "Yeah, you two were a handful, I didn't get you until you were teenagers, but i would imagine at least Jenny, was prone to unsupervised trips out after dark."

"No comment." Abbie answered.

"So the animal thing, what did you see?" he asked.

"It was dark,, Corbin, the angle of light must of hit the kid a weird way."

"That's the official report," he answered.

"Actually there isn't am official report. I took the kid home." she continued into her second plate of fries.

"You ask him what he was doing out there at the time of night, or at all?"

"Kid didn't talk much, he was quiet. No matter what i asked he got a little jumpy about it. I got the feeling his home situation isn't so...ideal."

Corbin nodded. " And the parents?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.

"Just met one. The father. Got the impression dude did not have a handle on things."

"That's because he doesn't." Corbin said. "Parenting ain't easy, kid. I did it twice, and no two times were alike."

Abbie understood. His taking in the two of them had been his second round of parenting, his other kids were in college and his wife had passed away from cancer years before. "Never said it was. And, why do I get the feeling you know more than what you are sharing." Abbie popped the last fry into her mouth and rubbed her hands together. "Something for that secret file cabinet that you think i don't know anything about?"

"You watch too much Dish network. " Corbin accused, "But, when there is more to be known-"

"-you'll make sure I know it." Abbie finished and stood up. "Yeah. yeah, I know the drill Sheriff Corbin." We should roll, those streets aint gettin' any cleaner."

XxX

Two days later and Abbie found herself again alone on a double shit. The money was great and truthfully, since her break up with Luke, the strong tough Lieutenant hated being in her apartment alone at night.

What she didn't tell Corbin at breakfast was what led her to drive through the cemetery that night. It was the same _pull _she felt now. The tether of reality had always been her greatest joy, but lately, the world had begun to upend ever so slightly in small ways she could barely put a finger on.

The cemetery was its usual creepy persona. Somewhere in the far reaches were the graves o both her parents. Abbie had it on good faith that they were interned here, but she herself had never visited their graves.

The night was warm, pleasant even. The full moon shone through the trees and cast an eerie silver light onto the older gravestones. Abbie pulled the squad into the open gates nearly on auto pilot. "What the hell am i doing here again?" she said to no one. "Oh, that's right. I've gone bat shit crazy."

She sat up a bit higher in the driver seat and careened onto the cemetery main road. Just as she made it past the large marble statue depicting some long forgotten and even longer dead founding father, a figure emerged from behind one of the mausoleums. It was the same that she remembered from seeing a brief flash of two days ago. this time she got a frightening good look at it.

The creature shambled on four legs, but the gait was all wrong, as if it was hurt in some way. Neither canine nor feline, but also appearing to be both.

And, the fucker had to be eight feet tall if it was an inch.

She instinctively reached for her gun., then called in or assistance with a special request for animal control to be notified of an unidentified animal loose in Sleepy Hollow Cemetery.

Abbie slid the car into park near the front gates and slipped out of her car with her flash light. The figure sprinted on four legs across the path in front of her for a second time; Abbie swung her flashlight around only to catch the tail end of the creature running behind the large mausoleum.

Only this time, it was on two legs.

Abbie's heart began pounding at a crescendo she usually reserved for strenuous foot chases. She swung around in different directions as she moved toward where she last saw the creature. She could hear the evidence of her requested back up in the distance. As she came to the blind side of the mausoleum she found a familiar figure crouched and slumped against the far side.

XxX

"We gotta stop meeting like this, kid." She said to the tallish boy in the seat next to her as she passed him a cup of hot chocolate one of the other officers had scurried off to get at her request.

"Ok, then stop coming to the cemetery." Jeremy answered with all the cheek of a fifteen year old.

Abbie bit the side of her cheek to maintain her tough exterior. "I could say the same thing to you."

Jeremy seemed to think on this for moments before nodding. "Fair enough." he decided with a sip of his coffee.

"You know I gotta take you to the station now, right?" she said, the seriousness easing back into her cadence.

"I really wish you wouldn't do that." he offered with another sip.

"How come?" I mean i warned you the first time, I don't know if any of this is getting through to that precocious little brain of yours,, but being out, at night, in a darkened cemetery is not good Jeremy. There's all kinds o people out there that could hurt you. " she said.

He placed his hands on his head. "I promised. I wish you would understand. I can't mess this up."

"Mess what up?" Abbie asked, she edged closer to the boy, accommodating to his leel. "Make me understand Jeremy."

Jeremy sighed, Abbie could tell whatever he had to say was big, and she prayed it didn't involve anyone hurting him. "My dad says they will take me away if i get into any more trouble, that they are watching us because they don't know if he should be my dad."

"Does he hurt you?"

Jeremy gave her a smirk that spoke of the nine year old in front of her, instead of the old man in his eyes. "Have you seen him? I don't think he could fight his way outta a paper bag. I'm pretty sure I could take him." he assured her.

This time Abbie let the laugh out. She hated to admit that she was really starting to like this kid. Abbie frowned, part of it confused her, but she knew, firsthand, what the kid was telling her. "How long were you in the system Jeremy?" she asked.

"Since I was a kid."

"You're _still_ a kid." she replied.

"A _little_ kid. like six. "

Abbie nodded. "I always hated the Christmas presents. You know? They came wrapped in the worst paper and they were usually for someone else. Like, a gift for a totally different person, but your name written on the cheap tag."

It was Jeremy's turn to nod. "And the trash bags. Every time you had to move, they put your stuff into trash bags."

This time she bit the side of her mouth to keep the sob from escaping. "Yeah," her voice cracked. They sat silent for a while, watching the officers and animal control scouring the graveyard. "Listen i am going to go against everything I should be doing, everything I was taught. " She turned to the young boy. "You and me, we got a few things known that others don't."

Jeremy nodded and sipped his cocoa.

"Okay, so I feel like we are sort of friends, right?"Jeremy nodded again. "Okay, so how about this, I will make a deal with you. I will take you home, to face only your dad, and in return,, you agree to my terms."

Jeremy's large blue eyes were both gracious and cautious as he spoke. "This is an armistice? What are the terms?"

She wondered what a nine year old knew of that word but decided to leave it go. "First, you agree to never come out here again." She emphasized. "I catch you out here again and i will, without ceremony haul your precocious but off to jail."

"I agree that you will never see me out here again." he nodded.

"Ok, second, you agree to go easy on your dad. I get the feeling he is in over his head with you."

"Lady, you have no idea."

Abbie grinned but ticked off her final request. "Lastly, and this is a big one Jeremy, I need you to tell me what you saw out here tonight."

He looked at her for a long time, Abbie felt his eyes bearing into hers, as if trying to see into her soul. Finally in a small voice that was final equal to his age, he whispered, "Okay. But please don;t tell my dad."

Abbie could not agree to that part, all she could do is give a terse nod, "Shall we agree upon the terms?" she asked. Jeremy nodded and Abbie held her hand out to him. "Shall we shake on this armistice?"

Jeremy jammed his hands under his armpits, "Don't touch me, please." He plead. "It's just better if you don't touch me. "


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry about the delay guys, foreign country, school and the like. No excuses though On with the show. **

He opened the door an inch, and let out a long suffering sigh. "Again?" he asked.

Abbie nodded and pushed the young boy in front of her. "We need to talk."

He opened the door fully and ushered the young woman in, his face bore the cadence of overwhelming tolerance.

Abbie found the house to be well kept, if not a bit cluttered with odd objects. Her first impression was to touch everything, to run her smooth brown hands over each antiquity until she found a solace in their tangibility. Instead, she took the offered seat at the early American cherry wood table and folded her hands in front of her. Waiting for father and son to join her, she spoke. "We have a bit of a problem with Jeremy's late night ramblings."

For an instant, it looked as if the elder Crane did not understand, then, as if dawn rose behind his eyers, he nodded and turned a quick glance to the 9 year old. "He is far too young to be taking himself for long constitutionals."

"Whatever that means," Abbie agreed with a nod. "Yeah."

Jeremy seemed to dip lower into his seat, but his sour unrepentant affectation did not alter. Ichabod rubbed his face with his hands and flung himself back. "Lieutenant," he began with exasperation. "You have to understand that our situation right now is…tentative."

Abbie cocked her head sidewise and folded her arms in anticipation.

"Well, that is to say, I just returned here to America. I was….away for quite some time."

"Okay," she answered.

He seemed to want to go on, but afraid to say anything more. "Jeremy hasn't always been under my care. I am completely new to this. In all honesty, I am completely new to many things. "

"You just got custody of him." She nodded.

"Jeremy, why don't you go and get ready for bed, the Lieutenant and I need to discuss keeping you out of prison."

"Yeah, right; they don't put kids my age in prison." He asserted as he shuffled toward the stairs.

His father watched him until he had made it up the stairs and spoke in a hushed tone. "I didn't even know he existed."

Same old story, Abbie thought to herself. "Your girlfriend didn't tell you.."

"My wife," he shook his head. "And no, she didn't. It's a long story Lieutenant, but I give you these bits of information in the hopes that you don't carry this any further with the authorities."

"You mean social services." She finished.

Crane nodded and averted his eyes. "I am woefully inept to handle a child such as him, but I . We are all each other have."

"Is he special needs?" Abbie asked, and again she was offered a look of distant understanding before he snapped back to reality.

"Ah, is he retarded?"

"I think the term you are looking for is developmentally delayed." Abbie corrected him.

Crane nodded again, "No, he is special though." His fell silent for a time then spoke. "I know he should not be out on his own, Lieutenant, and I am not allowing him out. He gets out on his own. Short of locking him in a room with shackles—"

"What is he doing in the cemetery at 11 at night?"

Crane shrugged. "I wish I knew." He answered, then with a start. "I am sorry, excuse my manners. Can I get you anything? Coffee?"

Perhaps it was his manner of asking, or the fact that her shift was finally ending that made her answer yes before she even realized it. He motioned her to follow him and they made their way into the kitchen. He made the coffee while she made herself comfortable at the small table. It too was antiquated to the point of fragility. Abbie wondered where he got his money from to be able to afford so many pieces of obvious antiques.

"I've had him for only two months. In the beginning it was hell, and I fear it has only gotten worse from there." He sighed. "He was in care before."

Abbie nodded, she too knew what that was like. Before Corbin had taken them in, she and Jenny had been in foster care. If it hadn't been for the incident, they probably would have continued to be fostered until they turned 18.

At the table, a steaming mug in front of each of them, "He's not a bad kid, Lieutenant. He's had a rough start of things.

She wanted to know, maybe a large part of her and the strange conversation with Corbin earlier made her need to know the entire story. "Tell me what happened."

Crane took a long sip of his coffee and began. "My wife and I were married when I was still in university. She had finished a year earlier."

"So, older than you?"

Crane laughed, "no, smarter. Anyway, we were tremendously happy. I was finishing my last year and she was working for a not for profit school for girls."

"Wait, they still have those in England?" she asked.

"Indeed. And after I graduated, I got an offer to come here, to work. for your government of all things."

Abbie's look of confusion must have been more obvious than she realized "That does happen you know." He smiled, "and I happen to possess a very…odd…set of knowledge."

"Do tell." She bantered.

"Another time. " Crane dismissed with a wave of his hand. "Katrina didn't want to go to the States. She wanted to stay in England, in our small little town. But, the job was so specialized, and my father thought it was a good idea, so we went. "

He became sad then; a maudlin look plastered his face. "I wish I hadn't, I wish I had stayed where we were. When I awoke, I had lost everything."

"Wait, I think you may have left off a few key points there." Abbie insisted. "What do you mean, when you awoke. "

Crane's visage spoke of a man hesitant to spill his secrets. "I came from a very distinct lineage, Lieutenant. Do not be fooled; England still relies heavily upon titles and bloodline." Crane looked out of the window next to him before going on. "They still don't know what happened to me, but I am told I simply slipped into a coma for no reason."

"Wait, no one just slips into a coma, that doesn't make sense."

Crane offered his hands in a gesture of agreement with a slight nearly gentlemanly dip of his head. "I offer to you my own affectation on the matter. "

The fact was, Abbie believed him. Perhaps it was her own experiences, or the crazy stories that Corbin would spin after enough rounds at the bar. "How long were you out for?" she asked bluntly enough that caused Crane to jump.

"Ten years." He answered. "I was 'asleep' for lack of a better term, through the entire duration of both the pregnancy and the first nine years of my son's life."

"So you had no idea she was pregnant?" Abbie asked.

Crane nodded. "She didn't tell me, and I will never know why. When I awoke, I was astounded to find that I had resided in a hospital for some ten years. My limbs had atrophied and my muscles were all shriveled. I could barely speak or even feed myself. I asked after my wife, where was she? Had she come to see me? There was no one. Not one bit of my family left; and Katrina was nowhere to be found."

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Crane." And Abbie found she actually meant it.

"Eleven months ago, when I was finally released from hospital, I started my own search. It was…it was very strange to return to our old house to find others living in it with no clue as to the previous occupants. The house had actually changed hands three times in the ten years I was away. "

Abbie wanted to say sorry again, to tell him it was all right, It was completely unprofessional for her to reach across to the table and place her hand on his for reassurance, and yet that was exactly what she did.

"The internet proved useless, there was no paper trail, or online persona nor any carbon footprint of what had become of my wife. For a time I thought she had gone back to England. I tried to call a few friends there but, in ten years numbers had changed and lives had come together as well as fallen away. I was truly alone.

"My father had died, left me a bit of money, and a useless title that I neither wanted nor had a use for. After I was released from a physician's care, I made the flight to England to sign whatever it was the Crown told me I needed to sign. I had thought briefly of staying there, to look for Katrina in all of our old places. But, after visiting those places twice it occurred to me that perhaps…" he stopped then, stirred his half empty coffee cup mindlessly and swallowed hard. "Perhaps she did not wish to be found."

"What made you go back to America? I mean you had all that in England, you could have started over?"

Crane gave a mirthless laugh that shattered the near stillness of the house. "What would you do, Lieutenant? The love of your life and you had no idea where she was? Would you simply give in, lay root and 'start over?"

Abbie nodded and sighed. "So, what lead you back to America then?"

"A phone call. Apparently, whilst I was looking for my wife, the state of New York was looking for me. Apparently they wanted to lay claim to a measurable amount of my inheritance for child support. To say that I was gob smacked would be an understatement. I had no idea what they meant when the phone call came to my father's home. My acceptance of the monies left to me sent up a siren to the state, and I was finally found. The assumption was that I had been ducking payment on Jeremy since his birth."

"God bless the DHS. They can't find Billy Earl or Little Shorty for evasion of child support in this state, but they managed to find you across the pond."

"I have no idea who those two gentlemen are, but I can assure you that, yes, I was quite sobered to have received word of my child that I did not even know was in existence. I flew to New York State so fast I nearly got a nose bleed."

And boy are my arms tired. Abbie finish silently.

He stopped to refill their coffee mugs. Abbie waved at the halfway mark, but Crane poured until it was again full. "And so there I was, in America again. No home, no family, no idea where to start, except for an office. By the time I had proven to the authorities that I was both Jeremy's father, and not a delinquent one, he was nearly nine years old. They seemed hesitant to release him to me, reluctant even. But, in the end, they had no choice." He paused, a look of self-appreciation passed along his angular features. "But, it was their choice to keep us on the 'watch-list' for an unspecified amount of time.

Abbie nodded. "I believe the term they call it is family monitoring."

Crane asked, "You are familiar with the department?"

"From both sides," she offered his questioning look was met with a wave. "That's a story for another day. Were they able to tell you anything about Katrina?"

"Oh yes." He answered with a finality that chilled Abbie. "But, that is a story for another day, " he smiled.

Abbie glanced at her watch and confirmed that yes; they had been talking for over an hour. "I should go." She offered standing and giving her small stature a much needed stretch.

"Oh, no Lieutenant that was not a cue to leave." He grinned, "I was just wondering if I shouldn't feed you."

XxX

Abbie Mills leaned against the driver side door of her car yawning.

"I told you those double shifts are gonna catch up to you." Corbin mused as he handed her a vente with extra shot.

She smiled. "Actually I am fine with the double, its late night conversations that will do you in."

Corbin offered her a sidelong glance before getting into the passenger seat. "You keeping company Abbie?" he mused with a fatherly twinkle.

"You wish," she stabbed. "Not gonna get rid of me that easy old man. Someone has to look after you in your advancing years."

Corbin humphed before speaking. "Was it Professor Crane?"

A feather could have knocked her over. Abbie tried to maintain a cool exterior before answering. "Why do you need to know?"

"He tell you what caused him to lapse into a coma for eight years?"

"It was nine," she answered quickly, then "Damn, you out copped me." Abbie shook her head with a laugh. "He told me a few things. Nothing of major importance. "

Corbin nodded in his seat while Abbie pointed the squad toward headquarters. "You likr him?"

"For what?" she asked with a chuckle. ":He's a new father struggling to get a handle on a kid that spent the first few years of his life in the system. I know a little something about the system."

"Not too much." Corbin added.

"Thanks to you," Abbie nodded. "Yeah, not too much. Kid keeps doing disappearing acts. Nothing illegal. Kid likes to take himself for a walk. "

"I had a dog like that once," Corbin grinned. "Where does he go?"

She wasn't sure how much she was willing to share with her mentor, would he think she was crazy if she told him what she had seen, twice now, in the cemetery. "Apparently, he is practicing for a career in grave digging. I keep finding him in the cemetery."

Corbin nodded as if she had told him it was Tuesday and her eyes were brown. "See anything interesting?" he asked from over his Styrofoam cup.

Abbie chanced a glare. "You are gonna have to tell me what you know old man, and I mean now."

XxX

Aside from eating everything in sight, leaving trails no mess in his wake, and having a tendency to not hear his name being called outside of close visual distance, Ichabod had to admit he was a good kid. Over all.

Saturdays always left him within a solid quandary of what to do. Outside of menial daily tasks and cleaning, there was little he could think of to do with his progeny. Six months together and it still felt like an odd room mate situation with a willful midget.

"So," he began as he placed a plate of food in front of Jeremy. "What do you want to do today?"

Jeremy gave a one shouldered shrug as he tore through the eggs and sausage Crane sighed, not sure if that was noncommittal, or merely nonchalant. "We could go to the park." He offered.

"That police woman was here late last night." Jeremy offered before gulping down his full glass of milk.

Ichabod eyed his son for a moment. His hair was like his, but the face was all Katrina. It struck him often how much he resembled her. "She was." He took a seat across from Jeremy with his own plate. "Which brings an interesting point. Why are you leaving the house at such late an hour? What is it you are doing out there?"

Jeremy offered another one shouldered shrug, opposite shoulder this time. Ichabod had always prided himself on being able to read people, but there were only two that love clouded from his observations. Jeremy was one of them.

"You cannot keep doing this. Honestly, Jeremy. Do you wish to return to state care?"

"You've asked me that before. "

Ichabod sighed. He wished he had someone he could ask for help in talking to him. Some familial inspiration would give him something to cling to. "It's just us, Jeremy." Ichabod tried again. "I got you out of that system. I fought hard for you, I cannot bear—" He reached for Jeremy's hand, but the boy was faster. Jeremy slid his hand under the table and shook his head.

"I know you don't like to be touched, sorry." Ichabod rose and began to clear the table.

"I like her." Jeremy offered after a time."

"Who?" Ichabod asked, empty plate in his hand hovering over the sink.

"The police woman. She's nice."

"Be that as it may," Ichabod spoke. "Perhaps you should join some junior constables club if you would like to see her socially. You cannot keep having her pick you up past curfew."

Jeremy nodded but said nothing as he slid out of his seat. "Jeremy," Ichabod called after his retreating form.

The boy stopped moving but did not turn around.

"If you want to visit somewhere perhaps," he stopped still finding words. "Perhaps we could visit it together? During more reasonable hours?"

Jeremy continued to move toward the stairs without another word.

"


	4. Chapter 4

"Some mysteries, Abbie are better learned than told."

He had always been that way; Corbin was more of a do it and see sort of parent. She was grateful for it most of time; however this was not one of moments. "You going to make me beg, Old Man?" she asked as she drove.

"Nope,:" Corbin said "I am going to make you find out for yourself. Best way to learn."

"Tenth grade science project, I am going to say yes. But, police investigations?" she smirked.

"Oh, this is a police investigation now?" he smiled. "Here I thought you had left off filing any sort of reports on the boy."

They shared a look then, Corbin knew she would fight hell and high water to keep any kid out of the system unless it was absolutely necessary. She and Jenny had spent three years shuttling between 'homes,' He knew that if Abbie had any inkling that the Crane kid was in any real danger she would not hesitate to remove him herself.

Abbie shrugged and sighed. "If there is something I should know I sure wish to hell you would just spill it and get it over with."

"I just think," Corbin said as they pulled into the parking lot of the police station, "That someone new to town would maybe need a friend."

"You're a little too old and too late to be playing match maker." Abbie smiled and waggled her finger under his nose before getting out of the car.

It was Corbin's turn to shrug. "Yeah, I would believe you in there was an actual date set for that event;." They ambled toward the back entrance of the station. Abbie opened the door and held it for the sheriff to enter.

"Luke and I will set a date when the time is right." He assured him.

Corbin stood without entering the station and met her gaze. "Abbie, you don't even wear your ring."

Abbie pursed her lips to stifle a response. She never wore her ring on the job, and Corbin knew that. But, it was also difficult for her to remember top put it back on after her shift. Add to the fact she had been working doubles for the last month to save up money for the wedding and honeymoon. Luke had been doing the same but he worked as an investigating officer on the morning shift. He had more time in and could choose his hours.

"It's just an observation, Abbie." Corbin amended as they entered the station.

"And you are all about the observation, aren't you Sheriff?"

One of the newer officers met them on their way to Corbin's office. He extended a file to the older man. "Sheriff, there's been another one."

"When?" he asked not taking off his coat.

"Last night, well he was found this morning, but the Vic swears this was done last night."

Abbie looked between the two men not catching the gist until Corbin sighed and turned to face her. "Another animal attack. Like last one two weeks ago."

"Fatal?" she asked.

Corbin shook his head. "Thank God, no neither one has been, but the vics never recall any real details. They get so chewed up we all figure it's some sort dog attack."

Abbie took the file from Officer Warren's hand and flipped through it. "What are the bites like?" she asked.

Warren shrugged and looked to Corbin for help. Corbin waved Warren off and lead Abbie into his office. Abbie did not even raise her head the entire time. "Seriously? Dog attacks? On top of everything else? How many of these have happened?" she asked sitting in the chair next to Corbin's desk, "And how don't I know about it?"

Corbin seated himself behind his standard issue desk and humphed. "Because, you work every shift except the ones where the bodies usually turn up," Corbin shrugged. "And someone else pulls the site and investigation." He took the file out of her hands and flipped to a page that itemized the list of incidents. "Six so far, they started about six months ago, one every waxing moon."

Abbie sighed. "But these attacks are happening during my shift. And the last two were found…" Abbie trailed off and looked at her mentor.

Corbin nodded, "Yup, looks like you get to make another visit to Casa Del Crane."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jeremy Crane shuffled through the living room with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his oversized green hoodie. Crane watched his son from the chair of his small desk_. He's moping. _Crane thought to himself. It was the early evening two weeks past the last time he had been brought home.

"Jeremy, what would you like for dinner? Its Saturday and that means its your choice."

Jeremy shrugged. "I'm going for a walk." The boy insisted as he shuffled to the door.

Crane peeked around the corner into the hallway leading to the massive glass and mahogany door. "I think it's a bit late for a walk, Jeremy." He tried tactfully. "Its nearly 6,"

The boy seemed to ignore him as he stuffed his ipod into his hoodie pocket and bent to tie his shoes. "I won't be gone long." He insisted.

These were the times that Ichabod hated; where he had to be both the bad guy, and the tough guy with Jeremy all at the same time. "Jeremy, I have to insist that you stay in at this time."

"It's still light out." The boy whined, pointing to the stained glass window.

Crane sighed and reached for his son's arm, stopped in the midst of his grasp and brought his arms into a fold. "I said it's too late to go out, why don't you play some video games or something?"

Jeremy stood stock still, he refused to move from in front of the door; he even kept his head down as if he were some sort of pouting statue. "Jeremy." Crane sighed. He had a stack of papers to grade, a mound of laundry to attack, and a pizza driver to summon. He grabbed his coat from the ancient coat rack and plastered on a smile. "All right then," he offered with a flamboyant stretch of his arms into the large pea coat. "Let's go."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

For the first ten minutes of the walk, Ichabod thought the boy would bolt. His large blue eyes darted in one hundred different directions as if looking for a way out. Ichabod was careful to take shorter strides so Jeremy could keep up Crane also made sure to stay on the outside of the road as they walked.

Crane had bought one of the oldest houses is Sleepy Hollow, thinking that if he could portray a show of wealth, then the social services lady would have no choice but to turn over his son. When he first saw the house, he had imagined he and Katrina coming together again, building a life that would include maybe more children. At some point in the past 6 months that had begun to realize that fantasy for what it was; poppycock.

But, Jeremy would never be some consolation prize. Crane regretted never knowing about him until he was neigh on nine years old. The two walked the nearly Rockwellian streets that were slowly filling with budding trees. The musty odor of nearly ripe honeysuckle drenched the late evening air. "It will be full on summer soon." Crane tried. He placed his hands folded behind his back and attempted to carry an air of casual easiness.

Jeremy simply nodded and reached down to pick up a large stick. For one horrendous moment, Crane was worried her would use it on his father to get away on his own. Instead, the boy adapted it as a walking stick and mimicked Merlin in his long travels.

"Am I afraid of my own son?" Crane wondered to himself. And, just as if he had said it out loud, Jeremy turned to offer him a sad but appraising look. "Can we eat pizza at the restaurant tonight?" he asked in a near mumble.

Crane nodded and the two turned toward the town square. Vito's was the only pizza place within walking distance from their home. It was probably older than Crane himself was, but also had the best pizza in town. Much better than the larger chains that flooded the shopping areas litten on the outskirts of town.

The bell tinkled as the two entered the shop. It was Jeremy who spotted her first. She was seated at the table with the file spread out in front of her. Corbin's shift had ended two hours ago and Abbie was left to her own devices until the wee hours of the morning. It has been Corbin's idea for her to peruse the facts entirely before she made her foray into the Crane family home again. When the bell to the door tinkled, Abbie Mills had just settled in for a small lunch between her two shifts. Instinctually she raised her head to see who had entered the small restaurant, only to be greeted by a radiant smile from the nine year old she had nearly arrested, twice.

"Miss Mills! Miss Mills!" Jeremy called as he ran to her table. Abbie quickly gathered up the papers on the table and placed them back into the file. Talk about speaking up the devil, the young woman thought to herself as she smiled back and the animated boy.

"Well hello young Master Crane; good to see you out and about at a reasonable hour." She looked to see the tall thin man had joined the two and was standing very close to her. "And supervised." She smiled up at Crane who could not help himself from returning her grin.

"Can we sit with Miss Mills?" Jeremy asked his father while sliding into the seat across from her.

Ichabod sighed "Jeremy it is rude to invite yourself into someone else's space. Lieutenant Mills looks to be very busy and—"

But Abbie waved his discourse aside and scooted over to make room for the tall man in the booth.

Crane, seeing Jeremy sprawled across the other seat chose to plant himself where he could. "We were out on an evening constitutional and found ourselves famished." Crane spoke while turning over the menu.

Abbie cocked her head at Jeremy who smiled. "We went for a walk and got hungry." The boy answered hopping in his seat as he spoke and glanced through the menu himself.

"I just got here myself, you two must have come up the back way. "

"We wanted pizza." Jeremy said. He beamed at the woman across from him and wriggled when she smiled back.

Crane could not believe the child sitting across from him was the same sullen creature that resided in his home. He had to look twice to make sure Jeremy was smiling and not baring his fangs. "If it is the same to you, lieutenant." He asked again, hopeful she would be amenable to sharing a meal with himself and his suddenly pliant son. Crane had not known of his son for long and had known him for less time than that. But, he had never seen the boy react to anyone in such a way. When the case worker came to visit, the child often clammed up tighter than he did when the two of them were alone together; If that were at all possible.

Abbie and Jeremy shared another look before Jeremy explained again. "He wants to make sure you are cool with eating with us."

Abbie smiled, she never considered herself stupid and understood Crane quite well, but it was nice to share something with the odd little boy that had nothing to do with orphan homes and trash bags full of your worldly possessions. "If your translation is true," she said to Jeremy then looked into the same blue eyes on the older man. "Then I am amenable to sitting and…supping with the two of you."

Crane was aghast to find that Jeremy had giggled…actually giggled at the Lieutenant's verbal antics. "Hmm," he sniffed, deciding to play the straight man. "I hardly would call the fare here worthy of…supping." He poked one eyebrow up, it leveled over the top of the menu and seemed poise to fall off. Abbie could not help but find the small gesture beyond cute, but she took the bait instead. "Mr. Crane, I don't think one who expects to spend 15 dollars for a pizza is exactly coming here for top fare." She comically looked around, even stood up a little. "Nope, no Gordon Ramsey anywhere."

Jeremy giggled again as the waitress came to take their drink orders. The casual observer would marvel at the small family out for a Friday night meal.

"So, Jeremy," Abbie began "What grade are you in?"

Before the boy could answer for himself, Abbie witnessed a feat she had only ever read about; Father Crane puffed his chest out as his head seemed to grow a few inches in circumference. "Jeremy is in the gifted program at Winslow Academy." He smiled.

Abbie was impressed. She comically placed her hand over her heart and made to swoon. "And to think,. All this time I was shuttling around royalty?"

Jeremy's laughter was uncontained as his father stared into the warm brown eyes of the woman next to him. Ichabod Crane was far too clever a man to be jealous, but that meant he could recognize a connection when he saw one. She had a way with his son he never had and may never have. "Lieutenant," Crane began.

Abbie could feel her toes curl just a hair at the use of the antiquated and very British pronunciation of the word. "Abbie, please, or…"

"Miss Mills," he nodded. Jeremy watched between the two adults, and a small knowing smile began to creep across his face. The two adults would have noticed had they not been distracted by watching each other.

It was Niki Minaj that jolted them from their reverie. Abbie leaned over to remove her phone prom her pocket. "I have to take this," she apologized and moved toward the restroom.

"Hey Abs, just wondering where you are eating tonight." Luke asked.

Her ring finger itched as she spoke. "Already ate, honey. Stopped at Vito's for a pie."

"I can join you if you're still there, been kicking around some wedding ideas—"

"No, no I am just finishing up, Luke. Stay where you I gotta get back out there."

"Lots of crazies." He answered.

"You ain't lying. " Abbie fired back and clicked off before he said anything sappy. Abbie never liked that side of Luke, it was almost like he was forcing it to come through, and he always used it at the wrong times.

She made her way back to the table where the long haggled after pizza had finally arrived. Pineapple and shrimp on one side. Double pepperoni on the other.

"That stuff will kill you." Crane nodded from around his Hawaiian special.

"So can seafood poisoning." Abbie answered. "You don't see me waggling the fickle finger of fate at you."

The three finished their meal and Abbie excused herself finally. It had been a long time since she could remember a better spent hour. "Shift part two starting. I gotta go."

Jeremy's face caved a little as she rose to leave. She had expected that, but seeing a similar look on the father's face was a bit surprising. He looked as if he wanted to ask her something, but she beat him to the punch. "Mr. Crane, listen I need to speak you with for a minute." She looked over to Jeremy and gave him a little wave. "No more midnight strolls, right?"

He gave her a small two fingered salute and offered her a full smile. "I promise."

She nodded and lead Crane to the other side of the restaurant. "I must admit Miss Mills, you read my mind." He grinned.

She smiled in realization. "Actually, I need to question Jeremy about a few things."

Crane's posture straightened and became rigid. "About what things?" he asked the small woman in a hiss.

She took a step back and held her hands up. "Listen, the two nights I brought him home from the cemetery there were some…attacks in town."

"Are you saying my son is guilty of violence?" Crane asked in that same hiss.

"Whoa, back up. No one is accusing Jeremy of anything. I just need to know if he can offer any information. Maybe he saw something." Abbie folded her arms and glanced back at the boy at the table. He was busily finishing off the last of the double pepperoni and seemed to be eying the Hawaiian side with some interest. "And, can I just say, if that's the first place you go, then maybe you should take a step back. He's a good kid. Just because he spent time in the system doesn't mean there is anything wrong with him." She could not believe she was defending Jeremy to his own father.

Crane nodded and rubbed his face with both his hands. "No, no of course not. It's just that. Miss Mills, Jeremy has been through a lot, are you sure it's wise to question him about something that may give him night mares?"

"I assure you I will not in any way put him in harm's way." Abbie asserted. "Listen; bring him by the station tomorrow after school. I promise you it will be quick and painless."

Crane nodded. He had to admit to himself the prospect of seeing her again intrigued him. He had not been sure of how the small woman was having an affect on him, but he was certain he wanted to see her again. "I'm sure he's enjoy an outing to the local constabulary." He nodded.

"Okay. " Abbie agreed. "See you then."


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry for the wait. I have not given up on either story, however work and school continue to be a real bitch. Thanks for all the love and support.**

**Rock on.**

The station was smaller than he had imagined it Perhaps too many late night Law and Order marathons lead him to believe that even a small town police station should be massive with fifty people running about looking busy.

Sleepy Hollow Police Station was nothing like that. There were maybe ten people in the whole of the building that he could see right off. The main counter was tall even for him and it was manned by a gruff looking woman with curly hair.

"Can I help you?" She asked over the speaker end of a land line phone. She had covered the bottom part with her hand and looked as if he had interrupted peace negotiations.

"I am, that is my son is to see Miss…Lieutenant Abbie Mills, please?"

The brash looking woman leaned forward over the desk, so much so that Crane placed his arm in front of his son and they both stepped back.

"ABBIE!" she shouted through the building.

A door opened somewhere and a small brown head poked out. Abbie smiled as she moved forward. "Right on time," she announced "Follow me into the back. "Thanks, Wendy. I got it from here."

Ichabod walked behind his son who seemed completely happy to follow at Abbie's heels, the father marveled at how unfettered his son seemed to be even though he knew they had come for questions.

Crane had spoken with the boy after they returned home the night before; Jeremy had been riding a soda high, at least that is what he had chalked it up to until he saw similar energy and bounce as the boy walked at the small woman's elbow.

She led them to an office. "No interrogation room?" Crane asked with a smirk as he and Jeremy took the seats she offered.

"Nope, sorry to disappoint. I thought this would be more comfortable for you guys here." She gave a smile to Jeremy and the young boy seemed to brighten even further. "Unless, you want to be interrogated?"

Father and son exchanged a rare smile and simultaneously shook their brown heads. Abbie was struck by the facial similarities between the two. They had the same eyes, same nearly delicate features. She smiled and nodded. "All right then, Mr. Crane, I am going to ask your son a few questions. You can be in the room or not."

"I prefer to stay, if it's all the same to you Lieutenant." Crane adjusted himself to sit straighter. Her gaze seemed to render him to the same feeble wriggling of his son. Ichabod Crane had come from a long line of gentlemen. He was used to propriety and manners in a professional setting. But this woman was having an effect upon him that he had not felt since….well best not to go there.

Abbie nodded again. "Okay, I am going to record this just in case." She looked at father and son; when they both nodded again, she went on. "Jeremy, on the night of April 18th of this year, can you tell me where you were?"

"Lieutenant…" Crane began as a warning. It had been his concern that this was a talk about his wayward parenting, and that any moment Ms. Vega and the current social worker would jump from the shadows and remove Jeremy from his custody.

But, Abbie had realized what his fears may be and tried to allay them. She pressed pause on the recorder before speaking "Mr. Crane, there were incidents that occurred that have nothing to do with anything outside of this department."

He nodded for her to go on, finally understanding. "Al right then," he offered with a wave to continue.

Jeremy looked between the two of them as they spoke but himself remained quiet. His father offered him a nod of encouragement; but it was Abbie's nod that he responded to. "I was taking a walk." He said quietly.

"Where did you go for your walk?"

Jeremy drew a breath and spoke. "Around 9, I…snuck out of the house. My dad was busy, he was writing. I know when he's writing he goes kinda into a different world."

Abbie smiled at Ichabod whose face began to redden. "Okay, what then?"

"I walked across the main square, well skirted it actually. " Jeremy said with a small knowing smile. "I didn't wanna get caught."

"Of course not." Crane mumbled under his breath and mentally reminded himself to write only when the boy was asleep or at school.

"Did you see anything, or anyone?" she asked. Jeremy shook his head and Abbie tried a different tack. "You ended up at the cemetery in town, Sleepy Hollow Cemetary, what time did you get thaere?"

"You picked me up at 11:17pm." Jeremy said.

Abbie smiled. Smart kid, she thought to herself. "Okay, but before that, you were in the cemetery for a while. Was there anything or anyone there that maybe scared you?" Abbie asked.

"Well, it's a cemetery, it's scary. I guess that is kinda the fun of it." Jeremy shrugged.

The adults shared a laugh "Jeremy, " Crane began. "I think the Lieutenant wants to know if there was anyone else there that you saw during your…visit."

Jeremy turned his blue eyes on Abbie. "No, Ma'am. I didn't see anyone there. Just me." He shrugged. "I just wanted to be alone. I didn't get much of that…before. Its nice to have a little freedom."

Abbie was certain that Jeremy hadn't seen anything that would be of any use. "Jeremy, in any times you have been out, has there been anything that you saw that would scare you?" she asked.

"The Nelsons on Bradbury have a really mean cat." Jeremy announced.

Abbie smiled and nodded. "Salem, yeah he's a terror. I think he has to be like a million years old by now. One day I will have to tell you about how he scared me when I was in high school."

"He's _that_ old?" Jeremy asked with eyes wide.

"Oh yeah," Abbie said, enjoying a tall tale. "I think he was once owned by Thomas Jefferson."

"Now you're just messing with me." Jeremy laughed

Abbie stopped the recorder and sighed. "I think that's it for now. But, Jeremy, if you remember anything, can you tell me or your father as soon as you do?"

Jeremy nodded again and spoke. "That's it?" he asked and looked at his father for confirmation.

Ichabod nodded, Jeremy turned his blue eyes on her almost pleading. "Did I do good?" he asked.

Abbie nodded and smiled, "You were amazing, as always." Abbie rose from her seat and moved toward the door. "Jeremy, please give the Lieutenant and I a moment." Crane asked.

He looked to Abbie again as if asking for permission. "Go on to the front, Wendy can get you whatever you like." Abbie added.

"I won't be long, Jeremy." Crane assured him. Jeremy ran across the bullpen and the two adults watched until he made it to the main desk.

"He's a good kid, Mr. Crane."

Ichabod nodded. "Miss Mills, he was terrified to come." Crane admitted. "But…" he hemmed and glanced at the boy across the large room sipping a coke and nodding at whatever Wendy had to say.

"But?" Abbie asked.

Ichabod sighed. He was loathe to admit his failings, or the fact that he truly needed help. "But, Jeremy seems to like—no, that's not right. Jeremy seems to come alive around you."

"I find that hard to believe." Abbie said with a shake of her head.

Ichabod placed his large hand. "You wouldn't see it. But, believe me when I tell you that he is the melancholy of children except." Crane stopped to gather his words carefully. "Except that dinner last night. He laughed, he…seemed _normal_."

It was Abbie's turn to look at Jeremy; in that instance, as if he sensed her attention, he waved at her and lit up like a Christmas tree. "Okay," she acquiesced. "Maybe he has a little crush."

Ichabod nodded. "Crush or not, Lieutenant, Miss Mills, I need your help."

"I don't see how I can help Mr. Crane." She shrugged. "I mean, doesn't he have a guardian ad liteum and a social worker for that?"

Crane nodded. "That, all of those and more. But, he ignores them, he barely tolerates me. He…" Ichabod sighed. "With all of his brains he still doesn't connect to anyone. Except you."

His elegant hand reached out to rest on her arm. "Miss Mills, he wants to ask you.." Ichabod hesitated sent a wordless prayer that she would agree. "If you have the time, could you come over for dinner?"

Abbie felt a slight rush to her cheeks. "Mr. Crane, I don't think…"

A hand on her free shoulder alerted her to someone else. "Hey _Honey_," Luke emphasized. "Who's your _friend_?" He smiled the same way he did when a suspect was lying to him. Abbie offered one in return with just as much warmth.

"This is Mr. Ichabod Crane." She nodded toward the tall man. "He came in about his son."

Luke nodded a return "So, I see you guys are finished here." Luke's eyes drifted to the hand still on her arm.

"Not yet," Abbie said, noticing that Crane had not yet moved his hand from her arm. She knew this was going to be an issue later, if not now.

Crane stood up straight, leisurely removed his hand and addressed the officer. "Ah, yes. Lieutenant Mills has been most helpful with Jeremy." Crane turned his gaze back to her. "You will let us know?"

Abbie nodded and Crane swept past the two of them. "Is he for real?" Luke asked watching the tall man lead his son out of the door. Abbie offered a wave to the two of them as they exited the glass doors.

"Yup," she nodded.

"That guy, he seems…odd. What are you supposed to let him know about?"

"You really wanna have this here?" she asked. Abbie knew where he was going with this Luke was a great guy but he had both a temper and a bad sense of timing.

"Do what? Is there something that should be done?" Luke hemmed. "And you are avoiding the question."

"No, I am not. I am merely adhering to the parameters of our agreement. You remember that one, right Luke?" she asked rhetorically. Of course he remembered it, it had been his idea.

"Abbie, I step up to you and Mr. Bean having some sort of…moment."

Abbie folded her arms and cocked her brown head. "What's the rule Luke?" she wasn't sure what she and Crane had been having, but a _moment_?

"Abbie, he was leaned into you; he was paying attention to you. You can't see how that would have looked to the casual observer? Let alone your fiancée. For christsakes he had his hand on your arm like—"

"The rule Luke? Or, so help me God I will walk outta here a single woman."

"No relationship issues at work." Luke relented his bravado deflated and Abbie assessed the corners of the station would be safe from piss. For now. "But this isn't over."

"Tread lightly, my love." Abbie threw over her shoulder as she walked to her desk.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

After a week of double shifts and stilted but heated conversations between she and Luke and Abbie was ready for her day off. She always got Sundays off to spend with Corbin and Jenny. During football season Abbie would suffer through touchdowns and replays; but this time of year she got to watch baseball with her two favorite people.

She was on her way to the cabin over a week later when he called.

"Lieutenant I hope I am not being to forward—"

"How did you get my number?" she asked quickly. In truth she was glad to hear from him, but her cop sense made her wonder how he had gleaned the information; not to mention how much more information on her he had.

"I am sorry, but our conversation last week was truncated. I had gone to the station to seek you out but your betrothed was about and honestly he gives me the-"

"My _betrothed_?" she giggled and checked to see what year it was. Abbie was certain she had returned to some part of her high school tenure. But honestly, who the hell talked like that?

"Yes, your _intended._" Crane clarified with a tone of distaste not lost on the woman at the other end of the phone. "That is what he is, am I not correct?"

Having not heard from you in over a week I wanted to…how do people here say it? Ah touch base about our conversation."

"Mr. Crane, I don't know what you want from me; nor how much I could help Jeremy. I am a cop not a social worker."

"I am aware of that Lieutenant." Crane said. "But, Jeremy has asked… Can you come for dinner?"

The silence between them was neither forced nor uncomfortable. Abbie weighed the options, know what she did of Jeremy and relating it to her own situation, it was already an answer laid out for her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Abbie had no time to consider what lead her to agree to the dinner with the Cranes. She knew of Jeremy's history reflected in her own disjointed childhood. They had connected on some level the times in her squad when she drove him home. But, Crane's words about how the child reacted otherwise seemed to not fit with what she had seen. Or, perhaps she was an insider looking out; hadn't she gone through the last three years before Corbin found them refraining from any human touch? Even Jenny's?

_I can't make my own life right by trying to fix someone else's _Abbie thought to herself as she sat in front of Corbin's large television. They were waiting for Jenny to make it in, and Corbin had shooed her into the living room wanting to finish dinner without "tiny hands stuck in the mashed potatoes."

Jenny landed in the seat next to her on Corbin's old leather couch. Her small muscular body bounced next to hers. "So, how's tricks, Abs?"

Abbie held tighter to the bowl of French fries in her lap. "You know how to make an entrance." Abbie noted. The cabin was filled with the smell of roasted chicken and garlic.

"Where's young Skywalker?" Jenny had a way of giving people nick names. Lukje had earned his title honestly, and it was probably the nicest of ones she chose to frame for her future brother-in-law.

"You know he hates that one." Abbie offered with a shake of her head. Luke had little imagination; he preferred testosterone filled films with characters who barely challenged the notion of well rounded. "And, he couldn't come this week."

"You two must be fighting." Jenny nodded as if her answer was the final word on the subject. Of course, they were, but Abbie resented her sister's unfailing ability to nail the circumstantial nail right on the factual head.

"We're…not." Abbie tried, not meeting Jenny's glare.

"Mmmhmm." Jenny nodded again.

"Don't." Abbie threatened.

Jenny shrugged and stole a handful of chips. "Don't what?" she asked innocently.

Abbie gave a long suffering sigh. She could ask Jenny what her problem was with Luke, but the answer was always the same. Jenny just didn't like him. "Can we at least wait for the dinner table to have this conversation?"

"I'd rather you didn't." Corbin spoke from the doorway. "Be nice just once my two girls could have a nice Sunday dinner without fighting over a sweater."

"That was one time." Abbie huffed.

"And we have found all new things to fight about." Jenny offered with a bright smile.

"MMMMmmmmhmmmm." Corbin grumped.

"This is where she gets it." Abbie accused pointing at her minutes younger sister.

"Be that as it may," Corbin said. "Dinner's ready, please leave the attitudes on the couch; you can deathmatch later."

"Abbie and Luke are fighting again." Jenny announced as she took her seat.

"We are not fighting." Abbie insisted. "We're engaged, gonna be married soon. We don't fight."

"My ass," Jenny mumbled.

"Language!" Corbin smiled. "And if Abbie is fighting with young Skywalker that is none of our business."

Abbie shook her head as Jenny and Corbin continued their usual Star Wars cantina scene.

After dinner, Corbin served up the apple pie that, as girls, they used to beg for. "So, you and Luke having trouble? I wondered why he hasn't been here the last two weeks. He never misses two in a row, at least not since you two had become serious."

Jenny gave Abbie a smug glare that screamed 'See, I know I am right.' Whenever Corbin asked about something it was usually on target. Anyone else and she would have waved the conversation away. But, the three of them had been through so much; had been there for each other when no one else would. As much as she was grateful that the man had taken her and her sister out of the system after four years, Abbie also knew that they had saved him as well. After the death of his wife, Corbin had been loath to find any reason to keep going. He admitted to them that, before they had come to live with him, he had considered eating his gun.

"Two weeks ago, he interrupted something he thought was happening." Abbie sketched a vague picture that she hoped would be enough.

It wasn't.

"What did he interrupt?" Corbin asked, doling out generous gobs of ice cream to each slice of pie. In that instance, Abbie was reminded of Junior prom, coming home early because her date had left with another girl. Corbin had fixed her his specialty; pulled up two kitchen chairs opposite each other, and told her that in five minutes, the ice cream would melt, and that kid wouldn't even matter to her anymore. You got five minutes to decide if you want to be the girl who got left at prom, or the woman who realizes he did you a favor."

That _had_ worked.

"Nothing, really. It was the day I had to interview Jeremy Crane."

Corbin and Jenny exchanged a look, "You knew about that, Corbin. I left the recording and the report on your desk."

Corbin nodded but it was Jenny that spoke. "You mean IIchabod Crane's son, right?"

"You know him?" Abbie asked attempting to deflect the conversation.

Jenny nodded "Sort of."

"What does that mean, 'sort of'?"

"It means sort of." Jenny shrugged,

"No, I want to know exactly what you mean. Let's not be polite here. I ask a question and you—"

"Oh, so now you are interrogating me Lieutenant Mills. I think you better—"

"Girls," Corbin spoke with a gentle and firm voice. "Can we just enjoy our pie without a fight?"

"You're not off the hook old man." Abbie said following the tense silence at the table.

"Oh?" he asked around a mouthful of pie.

"I am starting to feel as if the two of you are in on something. Is this like that old file cabinet of yours?"

"What old file cabinet?" Jenny asked with all the innocence of a hungry but very young Cobra.

Abbie flung her fork onto her plate and rolled her shoulders. Thank god it was late spring. "You two can have all the Secret Squirrel meetings you want; it's way too far into the third inning of the Mets game for me to care."


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry for the delay. To anyone who cares, i will be updating "A Lover's Complaint soon, kinda had to replot the damn thing. Now i know where it is going and the ending soooo... Anyway, thanks for all of the love and support and the good times on Tumblr. Just wow i love these two dorks so much.**

**Enjoy!**

He often left his things in striking places around her home. A sweater over a lamp, his shoes parked next to the television stand his cologne on top of the refrigerator. Abbie had been to his home enough times to know that her fiancée was nearly fastidious in his habits; his house resembled more of a museum to bachelorhood rather than a festering petri dish of half-done dishes.

It was the would-be profiler within her that educated Abbie Mills. Her fiancée wasn't messy, merely territorial.

At the present, he was seated on her couch, his long legs stretched on her coffee table in direct defiance of the rules. She rolled her eyes and sat the plate of take out between them. I really wish you wouldn't do that." Abbie accused with a gentle push of his legs.

Luke offered her one of his best smiles and spoke. "Sorry, Abs." he shrugged and grabbed one of the pieces of chicken. "Long day."

"Me too," Abbie said. "But you don't see my feet on your coffee table, now do you?"

"If we spent more time at my place I could use a point of reference." Luke accused with a smile.

Abbie sighed and reached for her sandwich. "Luke, we talked about this, we have the rest of our lives to live together. "

"And you like your space." He finished sourly.

"Maybe I do.," Abbie nodded. "But I l also understand that we are easing into a different phase of our lives." She shrugged.

Luke stood up and began to pace. "Is that why we haven't set a date yet? I mean everyone keeps asking when the big day is and I am running out of excuses."

Abbie held up her hands. "Not fighting. I am way too tired for a fight Luke." She patted the seat on the couch he had recently vacated. "Come sit with me, equal footing, right"

Luke folded his arms, more defiance; a trait in him Abbie had once found so endearing but not so much when she was the force to be rebelled. "Abbie, we need to pick a date." Luke countered with a rise of his chin. "If you have changed your mind, just tell me."

"How did we go from picking a date to changing my mind?" She stood up and made her way to him. Abbie placed her head on his shoulder. "I haven't changed my mind."

Luke slid his arms around her. "I know." He smiled hugging her closer. "But we really need to come up with some sort of…." He snuggled his head into her neck. "Something."

She understood. Abbie had never been a woman to deny her own flaws. Her fears did not reside in commitment, nor did they lie in Luke. She knew he loved her, and she knew that he would do anything for her. Any doubts resided solely on her side of the bed. She was scared of what the two of them were forming. A marriage meant eventually a family, and a family meant so much more that she could not reconcile to herself yet. "I am still saving for the wedding." She assured him.

"Corbin has offered to help." Luke countered gently.

He had, several times. But the same answer to the same question led Abbie to the same words. "He's not my father. "

"Abbie, he's the closest thing you've got."

Luke," Abbie said, warning edging around her words like a hungry serpent in the hen house. "This is not a topic open for interpretation. This is my wedding."

"Our wedding,." He amended.

"Right. We agreed. I pay for the wedding you pay for the honeymoon. Hope you are putting in for more hours cause I am not a cheap date." She smiled then, as much to disarm him as to reassure the man whose arms encircled her.

"You're not a cheap anything." He added with an extra squeeze.

Abbie slipped from his hold and shrugged. "Now that the fighting and making up is out of the way for the evening, can I please finish my sandwich before it's too greasy to even hold onto?"

"Deal."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

If asked, Abbie could not have given a clear and defined reason why she opted not to tell Luke about her dinner plans with the Cranes. She found herself pondering the issue as her Jeep pointed toward the older section of town.

Luke hadn't brought up anything about Crane since they had made up last week. In that time she had considered mentioning her acquiescence to dinner, after all she was there more for Jeremy. There was nothing to analyze here. Nope.

Nothing at all.

If Grace Abigail Mills could not admit to herself an attraction to the elder; she could, in the cool light of the late Spring evening; admit a kinship with the younger Crane. The boy had spent the majority of his life in a system that Abbie herself had no good memories from.

Jeremy was special; that much was as obvious as the early season box scores. But, it seemed his father did not have a proper handle on the kid. Any other parent, and Abbie would assume it was a clear case of the child out smarting the parent; but that seemed not the case in the Crane home. What she had seen of her time there initially was a house full of books and reason; logic and facts.

With just a dash of mysterious 'what the fuck' enough to make her agree to the dinner.

She shrugged to herself as she parked her Jeep in front of the old Georgian style house.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"She said she would be here Jeremy, why must you be after me so?" Crane wailed as he checked the oven for the fifth time in fifteen minutes.

"She's nice." Jeremy shrugged as his fingers tapped on his Kindle. "I like her."

Crane nodded, "Yes I am aware of that, you have expressed that very sentiment enumerable times. " In truth Crane had to admit to himself that he was just as excited about the visit as his son. He had been without adult conversation for far too long—save the multiple visits from those with Jeremy's best interest at heart.

And of course, Abigail Mills wasn't hard on the eye either. The burn he received from removing the roast from the oven was payment for his treacherous thoughts. He brought the afflicted digits to his mouth as the doorbell sounded.

"She's here!" Jeremy sang with a mighty leap.

Ichabod thanked his still longer limbs. "I'll get it." He insisted before realizing he was fighting with his son over who would open the door for Miss Mills.

What the hell was going on?

"Well, don't you look like the very Picture of Martha Stewart Living?" Abbie grinned from the doorway.

"Isn't she in jail?" Crane asked vaguely recalling something about the woman before his entire life went upside down.

"She's out now. You really need to catch up." Abbie smiled.

"That's what I keep telling him. "Jeremy insisted poking his head around his father's lanky form. Jeremy tilted his head toward his father. "Aren't you gonna let her in? Or are we having dinner al fresco tonight?"

"Don't be insolent." Crane chided Jeremy, but his eyes remained on the woman on the porch. "Miss Mills, if you will, please." He motioned her inside while scooting the young boy further into the house.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"You have a really nice place here, Mr. Crane." Abbie observed. "But, what's with all the old stuff?"

"I like old things." Crane nodded.

"History buff?" she asked.

"You should see the attic." Jeremy nodded knowingly.

"I'll take your word on it JerBear." Abbie grinned. "I have a feeling that attic probably hasn't seen the late of this century."

"Miss Mills," Crane asked with an arch of his eyebrow. "Are you casting dispersions upon my housework?"

"Nope." Abbie shook her head. "I _am_ calling you a pack rat." She said with a sweeping glare over the main area. In the early evening light, Abbie could see the house was infested with books. She had noticed the bookshelves that rose to the ceilings the first time she had come in for coffee, but now she could see it was an all-out full library. There were piles of old tomes that could not be housed in the already too full shelves. Abbie wanted to twirl around like some cliché damsel in a newfound library. Instead, she kept her cool, but only barely.

"We like books." Jeremy asserted with a dramatic nod.

"I can see that." She smiled. Crane helped her remove her coat and Jeremy hung it on a nearby coatrack that Abbie wondered if age had left unstable. "It's nice." Abbie meant it. She had long appreciated readers, being one herself but never having the capacity of books available at the Crane's.

"My father has read them all." Jeremy added with no small amount of pride.

Abbie looked at the elder Crane who suddenly had little idea of what to do with his long fingers. "Jeremy, I am sure Miss Mills would love to see the rest of the house. Perhaps she would appreciate a proper tour."

Jeremy's face would have split into two distinct halves parted at the mouth if her grinned any wider. "Come on Miss Mills…."

"Abbie," she corrected following the tall child up the stairs. "We can start with my room."

Half an hour later, most of the time spent in a bedroom that Abbie could only have dreamed o child, Crane emerged at the doorframe. "dinner is ready." He asserted. Jeremy nodded once and ran for the bathroom.

"Miss Mills." He began.

"Abbie, please."

The elder Crane nodded but went on. "Usually, he would have sullenly glopped into the bathroom with a frown that would have frightened Medusa herself. Today." He shakes his head with a look toward the bathroom in Jeremy's room where running water could be heard. "Today he runs."

Abbie wasn't sure if he required a response. She had had more than a good time following Jeremy around the house; in fact the half an hour went by fasted than she had realized. Instead, she shrugged and shook her own head.

Jeremy barreled out of the bathroom with hands raised as if needing to prove their cleanliness. "I'm hungry." He announced with a grin that Abbie was certain come by honestly from the man standing next to her. "Can we eat now?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Of course it was Yankee pot roast. Abbie wasn't sure what she had expected but she had somehow known it would be something…colonial and antiquated.

"It's good." she said between bites. "Reminds me of home."

Jeremy cast a strange eye toward the woman seated next to him. "You said…" he accused.

"When my sister and I were fourteen, a very kind souls took us in and basically gave us a home. " Abbie nodded as she spoke not sure why she felt compelled to share so much with near strangers.

Mr. Crane spoke. "Miss Mills, I had no idea you had been a ward of the state."

Abbie nodded again. "Yeah, its sort of a long story." She gave Crane a look that begged him not to push forward and was relieved at his cleared throat.

"I see. Well, Jeremy here has a play next week." Crane offered with pride.

"Really? What kind of play does an Academy for gifted students put on?" she asked with a wry smile.

"Why, Marlowe of course." Crane answered as if he were speaking to the great unwashed.

"Can you come?" Jeremy asked around a mouth full of food.

"Jeremy!" Crane admonished.

He swallowed his mouthful then chased it with a gulp of milk. "Can you come to my play Miss Abbie?"

'Jeremy?" Crane warned again before Jeremy could speak.

"Can you come to my play, please?" He amended again with that same virulent speed and tinged with a desperation that made Abbie's heart hurt.

"Jeremy," Crane said having finally found a way to get a word in. "You cannot make assumptions that Miss Mills will be available at your beck and call. She has her own life, I am sure of it." Crane offered a quick but pointed look in her direction that screamed Luke.

"Hey, JerBear." Abbie began "What day is it on?" Abbie return the three hundred watt smiles that plastered across the child's face.

"Miss Mills, I don't want you to feel obligated to come." Crane offered as a dodge.

"But she said she would!" Jeremy tossed, and in his eyes, in an instant, Abbie saw what frazzled the father. There was a momentary darkness that nearly sent Abbie for the front door. She had to close her eyes and talk herself down _He's a kid prone to tantrums_. Abbie shrugged inwardly. T_hat's it, nothing more._

But for a moment, the ten year old looked like he could be capable of_ anything/_

"Hey, I think we should use the three finger rule here." Abbie tried again, hoping to affect a different tone to the conversation. Because she could have sworn she saw terror in the father's eyes.

Jeremy offered her a look of innocent confusion. "What's that?"

"It's something that my…Corbin used to do with us. Three finger rule is if you can't make a promise, you can put three fingers in. It means. If I can I will be there, you still get to be mad if I can't make it, but the next one is the two finger rule. And so on 'til the person can call no fingers."

"What happens then. " Crane asked suddenly curious. If there were a lot more honesty going around, the man found himself curious with everything about the diminutive woman seated across from him.

"Then, even if death is imminent, the four horseman of the apocalypse, or Jesus himself were at the door, you still could had to do it." Abbie smiled. "We still keep an account on those. I think Jenny and I are on the one finger rule. "

Jeremy nodded. "I like that. So, if you can't come…"

"Then it's the two finger rule, yes." She looked up in time to see Crane eyeing her with an odd cadence, in a way she wasn't sure was entirely safe. But, she had to admit to herself, grudgingly, even coming here for dinner wasn't safe. She had known it from the instant she shared that cup of coffee with Ichabod Crane. Death may not be imminent, the four horseman were nowhere in the area, and Jesus wasn't the Avon Lady—she knew all he had to do was ask and he could have it.

"All right, then," Crane placed his hand in the center of the table. "Shall we seal this accord?"

As silly as Abbie felt, her hand moved to the center of the table followed by Jeremy's though he kept his from touching either adult's.

"All right then," Crane said with a smile. "Who is ready for after dinner activities?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A house full of books and gadgets, televisions and board games and what was the after dinner activity?

Walking.

Armed with his skateboard tucked under his arm, Jeremy walked between the two adults. He seemed to be able to talk four minutes straight without taking a single breath. Abbie had always been a quiet kid, she loved to fade into the background. Watching Jeremy reminded her of her sister. Even before they ended up in the system, Jenny was a hyperactive kid. Abbie had spent a lot of her time peeling her off of walks and keeping her out of trouble with school and foster parents. Watching Jeremy was almost soothing.

Abbie didn't mind so much, she enjoyed the town this time of year. Everything seemed to be waking up from a long slumber. She laughed at Jeremy running circles around intermittent poles. He claimed to be warding off an evil spell cast by a witch. Crane shrugged at his son's odd behavior and claimed he had an over indulgent imagination. "I could not imagine where he gets it." The tall man shrugged as the trio arrived at the park.

"Maybe all those books. It's kinda like caffeine, switch him to nonfiction see if that doesn't keep him up all night. "

The sun hung by a low thread and you could still feel the ghosts of winter whipping past on a casual breeze. Abbie stuffed her hands into her pockets and laughed at Jeremy's attempt to play Frisbee with his father.

Jeremy had opted for riding his skateboard along the paths and the now empty basketball courts. Crane wordlessly directed her to a bench and the two sat.

She spoke before he did. "You really don't need to say it. You have said thank you enough times." Abbie was dazzled by the smile he offered in return.

"It's not what I was going to say." He insisted, but the smug look on his face told her that it was. "Lieutenant, I must again state, however that this has been one of the best times I have had since I woke up." He paused then. "I don't have a lot of people. In fact, Jeremy is the list." Crane's gaze stayed on the son he just admitted to being his sole world.

Abbie knew how that felt. She recalled the day the c=social worker came to take them to the first foster home. It was a deceptively bright and warm day, she looked over at her sister and realized an odd feeling of finality; that perhaps the earlier loss of their father was merely a portend to the second loss. As the social worker explained to them they would need to pack up their most favorite things, Abbie realized then she was never coming back to that little apartment; or a life with her mother.

"I never pegged you for a wool gatherer." Crane spoke after a time. Abbie had not realized how quiet and pensive she had become.

"I was just thinking about my family."

Crane nodded, "Ah yes. I'd bet you have at least—one sister. Younger, but not by much."

Abbie cocked her head, "You been stalking me?" she asked.

Crane held up hands in defense. "No, absolutely not. Miss Mills. I once told you I have a…unique set of skills that make me invaluable to some."

Abbie considered the man next to her for a time. He was unique himself, let alone any particular skills he may be alluding to. "Uh huh, what are you, some type of Sherlock Holmes?"

He grinned wide, his fingers wriggling in mischief. "Something like that."

Jeremy appeared in front of them, pointing toward the concessions and pleading for ice cream.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

By the time their walk ended back in front of his home, Ichabod Crane was certain of two things; that this small but oddly fierce woman had surely placed some sort of spell upon his progeny. And secondly, that her magic had encompassed him as well. As a man in an odd situation, he knew he could not allow himself to follow where his feelings were leading. Oh but if he could….

"I should get going soon." Abbie admitted at the front door. Evening had long since bailed into the night. "Got the day shift tomorrow."

"Miss Mills," Crane spoke. "I thank you for spending time with us." In truth he did not want her to go, he dreaded the idea of her absence. He then mentally checked himself for his sinister thoughts.

"No need to thank me, Crane." She laughed as he kissed her hand. "It was fun. This was fun."

"Still," he offered as he straightened.

"Miss Mills," Jeremy began. He moved forward as if he wanted to hug her and then remembered himself. Crane noticed he had never once attempted that level of affection with him.

"I will see you again, JerBear. I promise."she smiled at the boy.

"Three fingers." He held up to her and Abbie nodded and held three back.

"Yup."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"You are spending an awful lot of time out in the old part of town." Jenny accused the next week. "Does Master Luke know where Pad Mai has been spending her time away from the Senate?"

Abbie cringed at Jenny's accusations. Within the last three weeks she had had four dinners five impromptu lunches and a school function with Ichabod Crane and his son. If she had been loath to figure out what she was doing before the first dinner, Abbie would now have to admit that, to some. She and Crane were dating.

It was kinda cute actually.

Except not.

Abbie wondered how long her not cheating would go unnoticed in a small town. Luke had picked up extra hours, and she, in turn had lessened hers. She told herself it was to spend more time with a kid who needed it, that she felt a responsibility to pay a debt forward that Corbin had paid to her.

"Must be tough going on dates, what with that busy schedule of wedding planning. Oh wait."

"I don't have time for this. " Abbie accused into her iPhone.

"No, I suppose you don't." Abbie could practically hear the smirk in her sister's voice. "But hey, that's none of my business."

"First accurate statement you have said in a long time." Abbie said.

"Just a heads up." Jenny said. "Corbin knows."

Abbie wanted to drop the phone and hide under her bed. Her mentor had been relentless in his assertions of running away to get married. Even though she was a grown ass woman with her own damn house and a mortgage payment as proof. Corbin never said what she was running from. But even without Corbin's constant warnings about running, Abbie knew what she was running from.

"Thanks for that, Jenny."

"Forewarned is forearmed. Better knowing than not. A little learning is a dangerous thing." Jenny rambled.

"And only you can prevent forest fires. Yeah, I got it."


End file.
